Okay, this was just taken yesterday, so I know it isn’t a repeat as yesterday’s was. Sorry for that. Easy to lose track.
This one by Cee is really cool. Please have a look:
https://ceenphotography.com/2016/10/17/flower-of-the-day-october-18-2016-dahlia/
It’s the day after Halloween, and for some reason, I have re-donned my Halloween costume, which was the unlikely choice of a Cigarette Girl! Was this my mother’s idea? Mine? Seems a strange choice and I certainly hope the real Cigarette girls of this eras wore longer skirts or more interesting underwear. At any rate, I can’t remember whether my sister caught me in this pose or staged it. I think I was going for the caramels in the center of the table. Like spreading seed for birds.
Oh, wait! Now I can see that those were Halloween cookies in the shape of pumpkins that I was going after. My sister Betty, 11 years older than me, had a costume party in the basement the night before and I think I was dipping into leftover refreshments.
Of course, the prompt word was “Treat.”
I don’t know why we all look so pleased about that really big one on my chin.
Teenagers are a strange species. This photo circa 1961, summer camp.
Zits
(A Cure for Acne)
Hormones need an exit too,
and I fear, dear teen, it’s you
they choose to make their mark upon;
but rest assured, they’ll soon be gone.
The need for Retin-A is urgent
when a new batch becomes emergent,
and though you quell the vile insurgent,
all too soon it is resurgent.
The solution for you is not simple.
You might consider veil and wimple
that hide both blemish and that dimple,
or simply choose to pop the pimple.
And though your folks will foot your bill
to pop, instead, the pimple pill
or swathe your face with Clearasil,
another can show up, and will.
Most folks my age have reached concurrence,
so please accept our reassurance.
Against each crop there’s no insurance.
it simply takes faith and endurance.
You might obsess and cry and pout
and wonder what it’s all about;
but it will pass, without a doubt
when age replaces it— with gout.
The prompt word today was “Urgent.”
Trick Retreat
At five o’clock they climb the hill to ring and ring my bell.
When I do not answer, the mob begins to swell.
Their cries of “We want Halloween!!” resound like cries from Hell.
My dogs begin a clamoring—and barks turn into growls.
The children’s only English words digress to angry howls
that prompt a shiver down my back––a loosening in my bowels.
I give in and seize the bowl and open up the gate.
The children swell around me, angry I’m so late.
They dig their hands into the bowl—in no mood for debate.
When I scream out “Take only one!” they begin to mind,
and they become more orderly and line up one behind
another as a snake of children starts to move and wind
from the bottom of the hill up to my front door
but when it seems I’ve served them all, there are always more:
one hundred, then two hundred, three hundred and then four!
And when I think the line perhaps is starting to get thin,
I finally discover that they got in line again
and came back to my doorway––where they’ve already been!
My candy store’s diminished, in fact there is no more
and they grow disorderly, waiting at my door
as I distribute all my fruit—right down to the last core.
Then I start giving canned goods—beans and corn and peas.
By the time my larder’s empty, they have brought me to my knees.
“Please, go home,” I beg them. “Leave my house now, please!”
But they have no pity. They are carrying off my plants.
I go into my closets and bring out my shirts and pants.
Still I hear requests for more—their demands and their rants.
I give them all my easy chairs, my pictures and my rugs,
my glasses and my dishes, my pots and pans and mugs.
From my refrigerator, I return with bowls and jugs.
Until my house is empty, they refuse to go away;
but finally I have no more, and I begin to pray
that they will soon release me from this relentless fray.
And then I see a ray of hope as across the street
my neighbor opens up his door and children’s footsteps beat
in a new direction—as they mount a swift retreat.
I hear my neighbor’s screams and cries as they shout for more.
Though I should go and help him, I’m yellow to the core
as I take the coward’s action and swiftly slam my door!!!
Mexico is lovely. It’s warm and lush and green.
I love its smiling people. I love its rich cuisine.
But there’s one drawback to living here that I have clearly seen.
I RUE THE DAY THAT MEXICO DISCOVERED HALLOWEEN!!!!!
I reblogged myself on this one! Doesn’t hurt to run one by again now and then, does it? The Prompt today was Trick.
I love that one ultra-shy petal that hasn’t opened at all and the other three, like observers in a vaudeville hall waiting for Gypsy Rose Lee to remove her veil!
For more dahlias go here: https://ceenphotography.com/2016/10/15/flower-of-the-day-october-16-2016-dahlia/
This was too good not to reblog and, refreshingly absent of vitriol, anger or debate. Just a clever representation of the personalities present on the ballot.
Someone is very artistic at Herman’s Produce right here in Lexington, Virginia!
These pumpkins made me smile until I came down with Sciatica!
Time out from blogging until further notice.
This is such an amazing article about an amazing project/community in Ehtiopia, where I lived in 1972-74 under very different circumstances. Thank you so much, Bernadette, for sharing this story.
A LITTLE DIFFERENT POST FOR FEMINIST FRIDAY. I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT.
The Commune in Ethiopia Where Feminism is the Law
How a village in Ethiopia has come to serve as a model for the rights of women, children and the elderly.
By Zac Crellin SEPTEMBER 14, 2016
The village center of Awra Amba. (All Photos: Zac Crellin)
Tucked away between the rugged gorges and valleys of the Ethiopian highlands is an egalitarian commune that defies the norms of traditional society. Awra Amba, founded in the utopian mold 44 years ago, has managed to thrive where so many other attempts have failed.
Awra Amba could be described as communist, puritanical, pantheistic, feminist, or even cult-like, but its 450 residents are wary of such descriptors. They believe their philosophy, as dictated by the community’s soft-spoken founder Zumra Nuru, is too easily distorted by cultural and linguistic differences to be labeled accurately…
View original post 1,556 more words
Treed
Stuck here in this cul-de-sac,
my mental skills are out of whack,
and I don’t seem to have the knack
for learning lessons as I look back.
I’m tortured as if on the rack.
My muscles wrench and joints all crack
my loosening bones go click clack clack.
With prospects dim, my soul is black.
Value in life is what I lack.
My life’s comprised of bric-a-brac.
I circle round and round the track,
until I’ve lost my will to quack.
Then
I
give
up
and
join
the
pack.
The prompt word today is “trust.” It may not be obvious what this poem has to do with the prompt word today, but actually it has everything to do with trusting yourself and your own unique views of life and to resist “losing your quack” and settling back into being like everyone else. The narrator of this poem is not me. It is only who I am determined not to become.
Since both the illustration and the shape of the poem are trees, I think it is also appropriate for Becca’s Sunday Tree Challenge.
I have seen the most unusual spiders since moving to Mexico 15 years ago. The one little black and white triangular spider, I’ve spotted at least 3 different times in the past 15 years and they always have an uneven number of legs. Must run in the family as it can’t be possible that the same spider has lived for 15 years. The Golden Orb Weaver spider is my favorite. It weaves the most interesting web. This one remained in this spot where I saw it every day on the way to my car for over a month.
https://jennifernicholewells.com/2016/10/15/jnws-halloween-challenge-spiderweb/
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lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 